"All of their diplomatic undertakings, " Alusair corrected. She had aged a decade in the forty days since Tilverton's loss, and her once striking face had become sallow and haggard with worry. "Their army-what remains of it-has been quiet since the Battle of Tilverton. "

"My point exactly, " Hovanay said. "How do we know they have not been marshaling their strength to renew their attack on the phaerimm?"

"That is wishful thinking, Ambassador, " said Piergeiron Paladinson, who had come by magic all the way from Water-deep. "Sadly, the Shadovar are too cunning to turn their attention elsewhere so our alliance can mobilize against the Melting. "

"And the elven armies are as ready to meet the Shadovar as the phaerimm, " Galaeron said. "The shadowshell damages

Evereska as much as it does the phaerimm, and our people will prevent the Shadovar from renewing it"

What Galaeron left unsaid was that with two of Mystra's Chosen-Laeral Silverhand and her consort Khelben Arunsun-still trapped in the Shaeradim, Storm Silver-hand was just as determined as the elves to bring down the shadowshell. At the first hint of trouble, she would teleport straight to the mystical Splicing that held the dark sphere together and join six of Evermeet's last high mages in preventing the Shadovar from renewing it

Galaeron felt certain of little else in this strange three-sided war, but he was sure that the shadowshell would fall, and soon. What happened afterward was anyone's guess. With the phaerimm loose in the world, the Shadovar thawing the High Ice, and the weather wreaking flood and famine across all Faer?n, the only thing anyone could predict for sure was calamity.

Hovanay studied Galaeron with a sneer, then finally said, "How wonderful for the elves. I'm sure you'll forgive the rest of us if we don't share your enthusiasm. "

"You have reason to wish Evereska ill, Ambassador?" Galaeron asked. "Perhaps Sembia hopes to strike a bargain for our treasure?"